


i'll buy you dinner first

by sportsnightnut



Category: The Fall (TV 2013), The X-Files
Genre: F/F, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 16:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18102149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sportsnightnut/pseuds/sportsnightnut
Summary: But then Stella rounds the corner and nearly drops the box of angel hair she’s holding. She comes dangerously close to running into, and subsequently toppling over, the cardboard display case of seasonal herbal tea.Because in front of her is perhaps one of the most beautiful human beings Stella has ever seen.





	i'll buy you dinner first

**Author's Note:**

  * For [viceversa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceversa/gifts).



> A prompt from my sweet friend Michelle (@viceversawrites on tumblr): "scully/stella prompt: they meet in London doing something entirely ordinary and boring (as so many fics begin in a bar). they're grocery shopping, taking the tube, at the market, the bank - you choose!"
> 
> I chose grocery store :) This is also my first Scully/Stella fic, but honestly, all it makes me want to do is write more of these two (and I likely will). :)

5:37. Not much of an on-time departure from the office, but when has that ever been the case, really?

It’s Friday night and it’s been raining the whole damn week, as it’s apt to do this time of year in London. Stella wants to get home, kick off these stilettos in the middle of the floor without giving a fuck exactly where they land, have a glass or three of wine. But then she remembers she used the last of her coffee this morning, so she needs to stop on the way home to replenish it, lest Saturday morning turn into something mildly miserable.  _Ten more minutes in these shoes, she tells herself_. You can do that.  _Just ten more minutes._

She shrugs on her trench coat and slings her bag over her shoulder. She’d been invited to go out with colleagues, but had politely declined. Social activities, particularly on a Friday evening, have never really been of interest to her. Friday night means home, silk pajamas, wine, a movie. And besides, she knew it was more of a pity invite than anything. Her colleagues like and respect her, sure, but the boss isn’t usually anyone’s first choice for a happy hour companion (unless it’s a party and the boss is buying, which was not the case in this instance).

Stella flips the lights off, starts making the trek home. There’s a Sainsbury’s between the office and her flat, so she decides to pop in there. They have a fine enough coffee selection, and maybe she can grab something to go with the leftover chicken in her fridge while she’s at it.

No basket, no trolley, because then she’ll buy more than she needs. Just straight for the coffee and tea aisle, stopping only to pick up a box of pasta on the way.

But then Stella rounds the corner and nearly drops the box of angel hair she’s holding. She comes dangerously close to running into, and subsequently toppling over, the cardboard display case of seasonal herbal tea.

Because in front of her is perhaps one of the most beautiful human beings Stella has ever seen.

She’s a bit shorter than Stella, although they’re probably a similar height without the stilettos. Fierce, dark red hair–one might even call it auburn–skims her shoulders. Stella’s first coherent thought is that all she wants to do is touch it, run her hands through it.  _God, it looks soft. I’m sure it would look similarly good spread out beneath her head on my pillow._

The woman is wearing a simple black dress and a gray cardigan with a pair of shiny black flats. She’s leaning against her trolley, standing in front of the coffee, looking absolutely baffled.

And the only thing Stella can conclude is that she absolutely must approach this woman. Because clearly she needs help. And  _clearly_  Stella should be the one to help her.

“Are you…looking for something?” Stella asks, stepping toward her. The woman raises her head and her lips turn up into a sweet smile.

_Holy shit, she’s stunning._  Stella swallows. Hard.

“I’m relatively new to London,” the woman starts. 

_Oh, Christ, she’s American. She’s gorgeous and her accent is fucking adorable._

“This is…well, I’ve never bought coffee here before, so I don’t know what to get. None of these brands are familiar to me. I mean, there’s Starbucks, but I don’t like Starbucks that much, and…” she stops explaining, realizing she’s started to ramble. “I’m sorry. That’s probably not what you meant when you asked if I needed help.”

“Oh, no, that’s exactly what I meant,” Stella replies smoothly. “The store brand is fine, but I enjoy Taylors.” She points to one, her maroon polish shining in the light as she taps the bag with her index finger. “This blend is quite lovely.”

The woman smiles at Stella. “Thank you,” she says, and reaches for the coffee. Stella hands it to her, causing their fingers to touch, and she thinks she might die right here in the middle of Sainsbury’s because even though it was only half a second, she could tell how warm and soft the woman’s hands are and her mind immediately jumped to all the places she’d like those hands to be.

“You’re quite welcome. I’m Stella, by the way.”

“I’m Agent–” she stops herself, shakes her head. “Sorry. Still used to introducing myself that way. I’m Dana.”

Stella cocks her head, looks the woman up and down. “Agent, hm? From the States?”

Dana nods. “Yes. Dana Scully, formerly a Special Agent for the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

_God, what a fucking turn-on._

“So what brings you to London, then, Dana?”

“I’m a physician. I went to medical school before I was recruited by the FBI. A former colleague of mine recommended me for a position at a clinic here. I was ready to get away from my life in D.C. Too much history, a little too much pain.” Dana pauses. “I’m sorry, I’m practically telling you my entire life story in the middle of a grocery store.”

Stella smiles and touches Dana’s arm gently, wanting her to know it’s okay. She seems lonely, maybe a little uneasy being in a new country on her own. But god, a Special Agent for the FBI? It seems to suggest that she would understand Stella’s life, at least in some ways.

“No need to apologise. I work for the Metropolitan Police. Detective Superintendent Stella Gibson, to introduce myself officially. So I know a bit about what that life is like, Agent Scully.”

“Oh, wow,” Dana breathes. “Yes, you certainly do. Well–thank you for this,” she says, holding up the bag of coffee beans. “It was awfully nice of you to assist a stranger.”

“I could walk around with you a bit, if you like,” Stella proposes. “Help you get the lay of the land. Answer any other questions that may arise about British groceries.”

Dana giggles, and Stella is sure she’s going to die on the goddamn spot. It’s this sweet, sexy sound she wants to hear again. And again.  _And in other contexts, too._

She agrees readily. “I’d like that, Stella.”

* * *

Dana tries not to make it obvious that she’s trembling slightly as she walks alongside Stella. This woman is the definition of alluring. Long blonde hair curled at the ends, a little bit of makeup, the kind that makes it look like she really isn’t wearing any. A silky emerald blouse, a black pencil skirt, and tall stilettos that basically beg for Dana to notice her calves as she strides confidently down the aisle.

_And_  she’s in law enforcement, which is (unsurprisingly) a major turn-on. Stella gets it. She knows the life, the job, the responsibilities, all of which require a certain commanding presence that Dana can’t help but think would come in useful in…certain situations.

And Dana is  _sure_  she looks really fucking hot wielding a weapon.

(Also, has she mentioned the British accent?)

Here’s the thing: Dana has never  _been_  with another woman. Not fully, anyway. Not in the “we’re in a relationship” kind of way. There was Lauren, an undergrad classmate who lived in her dorm senior year, but they only ever flirted, and usually only when drinking. Then in med school, there was Abby, who was in her surgery rotation. Abby was the closest she ever got, and it was mostly flirting with a few relatively innocuous makeout sessions (although it was always while sober, which made it feel very different from Lauren).

So the fact that Dana is incredibly,  _incredibly_  attracted to this woman has her more than a little unnerved.

* * *

They walk down the aisles together, Stella pointing out the locations of necessities like cereal and pasta, what the best baked goods are, what’s worth paying a little extra for and what’s just as good in the store brand. When Dana chooses a package of chocolate-filled croissants from the bakery, all Stella can think about is eating them with her. Naked, in bed, on a post-coital Sunday morning.

She clears her throat.

As they approach the dairy section, Stella observes that Dana seems a bit cold. Either that, or she’s inexplicably standing closer to Stella, which she admittedly wouldn’t mind.

She’s having trouble getting a read on Dana: she’s clearly not in a relationship now, as she moved to London alone (and mentioned something about moving away from something or someone painful). But she agreed to Stella’s company, and it seems like she’s been finding reasons to stand closer to her, accidentally brush against her. Didn’t move her hand away when Stella let hers linger for a moment longer than necessary.

But it’s still unclear if she’s  _that kind_  of interested.

The same cannot be said for Stella.

Dana is stunning, sexy. Beautiful and badass, and Stella wants her. Bad.

So as she shows Dana which cream she likes best for coffee, she reaches for the appropriate container and sets it in the trolley without ever breaking eye contact, her gaze focused on the woman next to her. They’re already close, but Stella leans in even closer, gets a hint of Dana’s perfume. She smells like raspberries and jasmine and everything good in the world. God, she wants to bury her face in her neck and perhaps stay there forever, just nibbling at that perfect ivory skin.

“Dana,” she starts. Her voice is dark, quiet, so none of their fellow shoppers nearby can hear what she’s saying. “If you don’t want this, you can tell me to kindly fuck off, and I will. But I feel compelled to tell you that you’re absolutely fucking beautiful and I would like nothing more than to take you home with me.”

Dana blushes, but not out of embarrassment, exactly. Stella knows the look, the reaction, this particular shade of flushed pink on the cheeks. It’s the reaction of someone who’s been “figured out,” so to speak. The reaction of someone who is pleasantly surprised that Stella finds her attractive in  _that way._

But it’s the cutest fucking thing, and it manages to warm Stella’s otherwise cold heart. 

_Oh, god, this woman is going to do me in_ , she thinks.  _First I proposition her in the middle of a grocery store and the next thing I know I’ve got a fucking crush on her and I’m about to turn down a night of incredible sex so I can date her instead._

“Let me add this,” she says before Dana can respond, her voice still low and dangerously close to Dana’s ear. “I’ll buy you dinner first. At least once if not twice. Maybe three or four times. I’ll kiss you after the first time. And I’ll take you out for coffee. Oh, yes, definitely coffee. And really, whatever else you desire. Dessert, wine, whiskey,  _anything_. Then after an appropriate amount of dates and innocent kisses, I’ll take you home with me. Pour you a glass of red wine while you stand in my kitchen. I’ll kiss you, but not as innocently as I kissed you before. And then I’ll touch you in as many places as you’ll allow me.”

It’s Dana’s turn to swallow. Hard.

“Yes,” she says almost inaudibly.

* * *

Dana says the word “yes” faster than her brain can process what’s happening.

She was relatively certain, throughout this entire encounter, that Stella found her attractive. It was mostly from the look in her eyes: caring and kind, yes, but also a little bit feral. It was clear when she put the coffee creamer in the cart that this was more than a friendly gesture. There was a want, a desire in her eyes, a look Dana hasn’t been on the receiving end of in years.

And the thought of being on the receiving end of it now terrifies her. Not because it’s a woman, not because it’s Stella. Because it’s been a  _long time_. 

But it’s been long enough.

And she wants Stella just as badly.

* * *

“Yes?” Stella repeats, somewhat unable to believe that this beautiful creature wasn’t intimidated by the fact that she was incredibly direct about her intentions.

“Dinner sounds nice. And coffee. And…those other things you mentioned.” Dana clears her throat, and Stella thinks it’s absolutely adorable because it’s clear that Dana is flustered and nervous.  _But this also means she finds_ you _attractive, Stella. Shit, the woman just agreed to go out on multiple dates with you knowing that at least part of your motivation is to get her into your bed._

Stella takes one small step back so she can look at Dana. She reaches over, caresses her cheekbone with her thumb, restrains herself from pushing her up against the cartons of milk and taking her right there. “Dinner it is, then. Anywhere you’d like. Tomorrow night.”


End file.
